A Dessert That Dances on the Grill

By KAY RENTSCHLER

Published: July 21, 2004

A QUICK grilled fruit dessert is packed with conceptual allure. Take delivery speed, for instance. Lifted from the grill in minutes flat, the fruit slumps into a puddle of caramel and smoke, revived by a scoop of ice cream. There. It is so dashingly of the moment, so breathlessly outside. But does it work?

Any grill master will tell you that by building a fire properly and using techniques suitable to the food in question, the grill becomes a device over which you can exercise mastery and control. Professionals do this by creating microclimates with hardwood coal set at varying heights and a big time-out zone where they can drag their quarry when it gets in trouble.

In this case, I had my doubts: setting any soft, juicy fruit, cut to reveal its innermost flesh, on a blazing grate, made me wince. Pineapples and bananas, sure; they show stamina under fire. But how does one grill a plum?

I am not, by nature, a cautious cook, and have the scars to prove it. But my impulse with soft fruits was to go gentle: medium-ripe and medium-hot. I called my friend Chris Schlesinger for counsel. Mr. Schlesinger, a chef and the author of ''The Thrill of the Grill'' and other books, has not cooked a meal indoors since 1985. ''You want ripe fruit, hot fire,'' he said.

Grill marks? Hokey pokey razzle-dazzle, Mr. Schlesinger said. Refuel your fire after dinner and go for a uniform sear. (The hottest fires come to you by way of hardwood charcoal. It burns hot, dies fast and gets out of town.)

It turns out that grilling pieces of plum, nectarine and mango is not much different from searing any one of them face down in a ripping hot pan. The temperature rages but the pain is brief.

The grill is not intended to scar the fruit or fan its flesh with aromatic smoke. In fact, soft fruits do not really cook at all. Sprayed or brushed with grapeseed oil, they warm, soften and glow. Turn the seared halves carefully with tongs and let their backsides heat up. Paint their faces, toward the end, with a sweet, racy glaze, and they shine.

The sweet glaze is the key, by the way. A nectarine with perfectly civil nibbling properties turns acerbic on the grill.

In the context of that glaze, I wanted to offer each fruit its own flavor wardrobe, a sort of ethnic dress. I saw the plums in sweet soy and sesame, the mangoes with lime and yogurt, the nectarines in spiced honey butter.

Liquid sugars are typically enlisted to baste grilled fruits. But the usual choices were not doing it for me. Maple syrup and honey ran; molasses fought. It must have been a nostalgic impulse -- or a faint countergrilling protest -- that prompted me to toss a can of sweetened condensed milk into the grocery cart along with the fruit. I cannot remember ever having cooked with it. Yet its sinewy viscosity flowed with the affection of an old friend.

In fact, the very properties that make sweetened condensed milk cloying and old-fashioned make it peerless for glazing grilled fruit. Loaded with sugar, creamily bland and just about thick enough to chew, the sluggish milk-in-a-can carries flavors forward, then stays where it is placed. It goes straight to caramel on the grill but, lofted with aromatics to suit a particular fruit, becomes a fine sauce to drizzle as well. I kept the can, and canned the yogurt, butter and honey instead.

As I observed the fruits that came fainting off the grill, I thought that they might like a bit of cushion, and that we, the diners, might like an in-lieu-of-crust option. Like fat slices of grilled cinnamon toast for the nectarines, and chubby bolsters of sweet sticky grilled rice for the plums and mangoes.

A confetti shower of seeds or berries, ice or whipped cream, and a piece of fruit gets dressed up fast, so fast, in fact, that it prompts me to wonder: will I bother to bake a fruit pie this summer?

GRILLED MANGO WITH SWEET STICKY RICE CAKES AND PISTACHIOS

Time: 40 minutes plus one hour's chilling for rice cakes

For the rice cakes:

1 cup short-grained rice, rinsed

1 tablespoon sugar

1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

For the sauce:

3 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk

2 teaspoons finely grated lime zest

1 teaspoon fresh lime juice

1/2 teaspoon rosewater

Pinch fine sea salt

For the mangoes and garnish:

2 large ripe mangoes, cut in two lengthwise

Grapeseed spray or oil

1 lime, sliced 1/4-inch thick

1 tablespoon finely chopped raw pistachios.

1. For the rice cakes: Combine rice and 1 cup water in a 10-cup rice cooker or heavy 2 1/2-quart saucepan. If using rice cooker, cover and cook until light goes on. Let rest 10 minutes. If using pot, cover and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Reduce heat to low, and simmer gently until water is absorbed and rice is tender, about 15 minutes. Turn off heat, wrap lid in a clean kitchen towel, replace lid, and let saucepan rest on hot burner for 10 minutes.

2. Turn rice onto a sheetpan and spread to cool. Turn into mixing bowl, and add sugar and salt. Toss with fingers to combine. Roll rice with wet hands into eight 3-inch balls. Flatten balls into cakes and transfer to plate. Cover and chill at least an hour.

3. For the sauce: In bowl, combine all ingredients and stir to combine. Set aside.